5th Avenue is alive with Christmas shoppers. We join the crowds and head uptown after a NY breakfast of eggs, bacon and home fries. Passing through Macy’s (which takes a couple of hours) we join the throng of people moving from store to store. All the names are here and we make it is as far as Abercrombie & Fitch, where they play music so loud you feel more like you are in a night club than a shop. It’s dark, thumping, hot and sweaty with frantic shoppers desperate to buy a piece of Americana. I think I prefer John Lewis.
Dinner that night is back at the White Horse which is becoming a bit of a local. Madame Vin has researched the bar and found out that this was the place that Dylan Thomas drank himself to death. It seems to have had a rich and colourful past and though now nothing more than a good local it still feels as if some of its liberal disestablishment past is written into the walls.
Dinner that night is back at the White Horse which is becoming a bit of a local. Madame Vin has researched the bar and found out that this was the place that Dylan Thomas drank himself to death. It seems to have had a rich and colourful past and though now nothing more than a good local it still feels as if some of its liberal disestablishment past is written into the walls.
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